Tragic Love Romance Short Stories & Independence Face Slapping Novels

I marry the comatose heir of Jebony's most affluent family for the ten million dollars in wedding gifts. In the year after the wedding, I undergo 12 rounds of IVF and finally give birth to the Larkin family's successor. When our son turns five, Jacob Larkin miraculously wakes up. The media goes wild, calling me the Larkin family's lucky star. They say I'll live a life of endless privilege. I merely smile—the first look Jacob gives me after waking up is one full of disdain. He even warns me icily, "You're nothing more than a woman my father paid to bear me an heir. Don't kid yourself that I'll ever fall for you! "I grew up with Angela. If not for that accident, you would never have become my wife." I hand him the divorce papers and say calmly, "I'll step aside, then. I'll give you and Ms. Lloyd what you want."

On the last day of the deadline for the loan repayment, I went to Liam Sommer's stepsister, Christine Sommer, to ask for the 300,000 dollars I had lent her. The next day, Liam threw a ledger I had never seen before in front of me. Liam said, "On your birthday last year, I transferred 8,100 dollars to you. On our tenth anniversary, I transferred 108,000 dollars to you. Also, at the beginning of every month, I transfer 20,000 dollars to you for your living expenses. You must pay me back by the end of today." I froze, but Liam smiled without a hint of warmth. "What’s wrong? You can't afford to repay me? Evelyn Lancaster, you shouldn't have given Christy trouble. This is my lesson to you. If you don't pay me back today, let's not meet for the next three years, and don't come looking for me." Over the next three years, I never saw Liam again, nor did I go looking for him. While he and Christine traveled around the world and wore couple rings, I married my childhood friend in front of our family and friends. While he and Christine walked along the beach and kissed, I moved into a new house with my husband, our cat, and our dog. Everything was moving along smoothly, but why was Liam standing under the window of my house in the middle of the night, crying and saying that he was unhappy?

On the eve of our ninth wedding, my fiance, Jasper Preston, develops a split personality after saving me in a car accident. One personality loves me down to his very bones. The other, however, is hopelessly in love with his junior, Wendy Upton. While I'm in a half-dreaming stupor, I hear the doctor sigh. "Mr. Preston's two personalities possess immense self-awareness. I'm afraid it'll be very difficult for them to merge. If Ms. Birch insists on marrying him, she must be willing to share her husband with another woman." Sighs ripple through the room, but I remain exceptionally resolute. After all, he had risked his life to save me in that accident. How could I possibly give up on the man I love so easily? However, the very next second, I hear another voice. "Jasper, you really outdid yourself this time. I can't believe you actually made up a split personality. Still, knowing Stella's temper, won't she drag you down to hell with her once she finds out the truth?" Jasper scoffs, "She loves me so much that she'd give her life for me; she'd never hurt me. I have to teach her a lesson because she fired Wen." My heart feels as though a blade has pierced straight through it. So, the disasters plaguing our weddings aren't coincidences. Everything—every single obstacle—has just been his twisted way of punishing me. Since he's willing to go this far for Wendy, I no longer want this forced marriage. Consequently, when I come to, and Jasper puts on his split-personality act, I simply look at his sworn rival, Mason Winslow, who is standing beside him. "Honey, who is he?" I ask calmly.

I'm learning to swim when my childhood friend, Vivian Thorne, fakes a cramp. My boyfriend, Oliver Wilde, suddenly lets go of my hand and swims toward her. I'm left alone in the two-yard-deep pool, completely stunned. After Oliver carries Vivian ashore, he smiles as he watches me thrash around. "Vivian says you rely on me too much and need a push to learn, so just swim over here yourself." I choke on water and sink. At the sight of my struggle, Vivian laughs so hard she slaps her thigh. Oliver says something to her, then drapes a towel over her shoulders in resignation. Even though I can't hear what he says, I bet it must be, "Now that you've had your laugh, don't tease her the next time. Aria is already pitiful enough with her fear of water." It's true that I was born with a fear of water. I've known them for seven years. All this time, Oliver and Vivian have been tormenting me under the guise of helping me overcome my fear of water. In college, at the beach, Vivian deliberately pushes me off the speedboat. Oliver jumps in to shield her and watches me swallow a bellyful of seawater in the waves. On the graduation rafting trip, Vivian suddenly capsizes the kayak. Oliver swims over to pull her up and watches me slam into a rock, my leg bleeding nonstop. Last year at the water park, Vivian shoves me down the waterslide. Oliver slides down to catch her and leaves me in the pool, nearly suffocating with fear. Every time, my fear and despair are met with a burst of laughter from Vivian. Meanwhile, Oliver stands behind her, always saying the same thing. "No more next time." However, the next time always turns into Vivian's new way of having fun at my expense. Water floods into my mouth and nose, the suffocation shooting straight to the top of my skull. But suddenly, I realize that I can actually float on my own. I grab the safety rope and haul myself ashore. Two pairs of hands reach out to pull me up, but I push them away. "From now on, I don't need you two to help me build up my courage anymore."

At the wedding I've spent months planning, my usually stoic fiancé, Anthony Scott, is about to run off with his assistant, Erica Jones. To top it all off, she is wearing a wedding gown. Out of nowhere, his younger brother, Christopher Scott, grabs my hand and plans to pull me straight to City Hall. He disregards my panicking eyes. "Let's get married," he says, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Then, the stage decorations suddenly collapse, revealing a room full of guests mocking and laughing at me. The two men who once swore to love me forever do all just to make Erica smile. The three of them clink glasses and drink a love toast on stage, completely lost in their own moment. "The wedding you planned was way too outdated. You should thank Erica for turning it into a bachelorette party!" "The real wedding will be this Sunday. Isn't Erica's idea amazing?" Anthony and Christopher were confident that I wouldn't dare leave them. But I quietly pick up my phone and type a message. "Let's set the wedding date for this Sunday, Levi."

In the fifth year of their marriage, Layla Turner insisted Jules Fanon take on Roland Presley as his assistant. “His name is Roland Presley. He’s young and hot-tempered. Be patient with him and help him out if there’s anything he doesn’t know.” During that first meeting, Jules hardly suspected that this young man would eventually turn out to pose a grave threat to him. Three months later, Jules stood outside the house and watched his wife of five years, Layla, cheating on him with another man. This other man was none other than Roland himself, the assistant whom Layla had insisted on assigning to him. Jules waited downstairs for Layla to explain, and when she finally did, she remarked nonchalantly, "We're just having fun. Look, the boy is upset about being the other man, so how about this? We can get divorced for now and remarry three months later." Jules agreed without hesitation. "Sure." However, in Jules’ vocabulary, there was no room for remarriage! Since Layla wanted to be with someone else, then so be it!

Before Christmas Eve, all of Nowevik was betting. Not on money. On me. Would I finally pull the winning lot? Would Leon Fabian finally take me to his family estate for Christmas? The Fabians had a rule. A new bride had to attend the Christmas Eve dinner with the whole family before she counted as one of them. I'd been married five years. Five years. The lot never landed on me. I'd become Nowevik's favorite joke. This year, the winning ticket went to a nightclub hostess. She lounged on Leon's lap and flicked it onto the table in front of me, smiling like she'd already won. The room went silent. Everyone waited— for me to lunge at her like I had the last four years. Claws out. A scene. But I didn't move. "Congratulations." Leon leaned in, breath warm at my ear, smiling like he'd just proved something. "Wynne, you're finally learning how to behave. Keep this up and you might actually become a proper lady of my house." I lowered my eyes and tore the ticket in half. My face stayed blank. Leon had no idea the five-year deal between my brother and me was already over. Soon, he'd come take me home.

Three years ago, Samantha Jade and her parents were trapped in a raging fire. She watched with her own eyes as the flames devoured her mother and father. At the critical moment, it was Connor Parker who charged in and saved her. She fell hopelessly in love with him. For the following three years, she drowned in the tenderness he wove so carefully around her. But later, Samantha discovered the truth: that fire three years ago—Connor had set it. He had approached her on purpose, loved her on purpose, all to avenge his first love. Every bit of love, every gentle word, every beautiful moment between them—none of it was real. It had all been a lie. Since he hated her that much, Samantha decided to play along. Amid Connor's revenge, she faked her death. But when he saw the charred body—believing it was hers—Connor lost his mind.

I arrived at yet another family gathering to see Declan Mercer's assistant sitting in my seat. I turned to him. "She's sitting in the hostess's seat. Do you really have nothing to say?" He looked at me like I was wasting his time. "You showed up late, so don't blame her for taking your spot. There's an empty seat right there. You can sit there, or you can get out." I was about to respond when Declan's inner voice flooded my head. "Come on, babe. Get mad already. "Tell me you need me. Tell me you want to sit next to me. "Prove to me that you love me. That's the only way I'll feel secure." This time, I did not give his inner voice what it wanted. I simply looked down and slid the ring off my finger. "If there isn't a place for me at this table, then I suppose I'm not needed here anymore. "Let's get a divorce."

At a party the night before Aiden and I are supposed to officially get engaged, someone starts a round of "Never Have I Ever." One of my fiancé's friends raises his glass. "Never have I ever gotten my fiancée's best friend pregnant before getting engaged." The room goes dead silent for a second. Then everyone bursts out laughing. I pretend I don't hear a thing and keep feeding my fiancé, Aiden Bassett, pieces of fruit like he's the only person in the room. Aiden takes a slow sip of his drink, then looks over at my best friend, Sharon Moore, his expression soft. "Sharon's always wanted a baby, but she never wants to get married. I just helped her out." Sharon looks away shyly. "Okay, enough. Renee's right here." My fingers tighten around my glass. That's when it finally hits me that they're talking about Aiden. The second his friends notice my reaction, they rush to smooth things over. "Renee, don't be upset. You're so good to Aiden. You're sweet, and you've always got everything handled. We just didn't want to keep this from you!" "Honestly, Aiden did you a favor too. If you're okay with it, you get a baby without ever having to go through pregnancy yourself. Sounds like a pretty good deal, doesn't it?" "Exactly. Sharon and Aiden have known each other forever. She's practically family." I don't cry or make a scene. I just smile, stand up, and give up my place beside my fiancé. What they don't know is that I only play the good girl when it benefits me. I'm not obligated to raise someone else's baby.

According to our village's betrothal custom, unmarried men and women exchanged carved wooden tokens on Midsummer Eve. If the two tokens made a matching pair, it meant they had pledged their hearts to each other and could set a date to marry. Kat Michielsen and I had agreed to exchange rose carvings. But right before Midsummer Eve, when I went to find Kat to confirm our plans, I happened to overhear her talking with her grandmother, Sarah Michielsen. "Are you really going to swap your rose carving for a wild rose one and marry Jason? What about Nick? He's waited for you for seventeen years. Aren't you afraid he'll lose heart and end up matched with some other woman?" Kat ran her fingers over the piece of wild-rose wood in her hand, the corners of her lips curling into a faint smile. "He won't. The whole village knows we're in love. Nobody would dare exchange tokens with him. "Marrying me has been his obsession since we were kids. He's waited this long. Even if he finds out I lied to him, he won't leave. "Besides, I'm choosing Jason to comfort my sister's spirit. Once this year is over, I'll make Nick my husband." All of a sudden, the rose carving in my hand felt like it was covered in thorns. So her late sister's widower mattered more than me. My seventeen years of waiting had only made me the backup she'd settled on after weighing her options. In that case, there was no point in our union. I snapped the rose carving in two. And without a second thought, I accepted the century-old Stag and Swan Seal.

Tony finally realized I had stopped telling him everything. When the company assigned me to a business trip, I signed the papers immediately without consulting him. When my best friend invited couples to her wedding, I attended alone and gave her a nice wedding gift. Even when I fell ill and needed surgery, I booked the appointment without his consent. As a doctor, Tony frowned when he found out about the surgery. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick? Give me your medical records, I'll arrange everything for you." Without a second thought, I replied, "No need. I can handle it myself, I don't want to trouble you. Thank you." The moment the words left my mouth, both of us froze. Less than a month ago... I was completely dependent on him. Back then, I couldn't even choose an outfit for a date or decide what to eat for lunch without texting him first.

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.

In the fifth year of her marriage, Natalie Shaw is taken to the police for the 199th time after being mistaken for a mistress. Someone comes to bail her out. Her face is covered in scratches and blood. A chunk of her hair has been ripped out, exposing raw, bleeding skin. It's a horrifying sight. She cries from the pain. But soon, she goes numb. She sits in the chair in silence, trying to untangle her hair, which has been clumped together by thick, sticky blood. Only when a police officer hands her a document and tells her she is free to leave does she slowly lift her head. And sure enough, the person who has come to bail her out is not her husband, Adrian Carter.

I marry Mason Longbright, my savior, at 24. For five years, Mason's erectile dysfunction and bipolar disorder keep us from ever sleeping together. He can't satisfy me when I want him, so he uses toys on me instead. But during his manic episodes, his touch turns into torment, leaving me bruised and broken. On my birthday night, I catch Mason in bed with another woman. Skin against skin, Mason drives into Amy Becker with a rough, ravenous urgency, his desire consuming her like a starving beast. Our friends and family are shocked, but no one is more devastated than I am. And when Mason keeps choosing Amy over me at home, I finally decide to let him go. I always thought his condition kept him from loving me, but it turns out he simply can't get it up with me at all. I book a plane ticket and instruct my lawyer to deliver the divorce papers. I am determined to leave him. To my surprise, Mason comes looking for me and falls to his knees, begging for forgiveness. But this time, I choose to treat myself better.

Three years back, a crash wrecked Rhea's hearing—and the future she'd built her life around. At her lowest point, Eddie stayed by her side like a hero, pulling her out of the shadows. But the second she got her hearing back and thought she could finally tell him... she heard the truth: he'd planned the whole thing. For his beloved. So she could win. Yeah, he was already engaged. To that girl. Rhea didn't cry. Didn't scream. Just picked up her phone. "Grandpa, I'm ready. I'm taking back the Cliburn name. And I'm entering the international piano competition as your heir."

News of my groom's death arrived, but I shed no tears. Instead, I quickly reclaimed his shares and had his death officially recorded. Why? I was reborn. In my previous life, my family had adopted three boys to accompany me since childhood, all of whom were potential candidates to be my husband. As the heiress of the wealthiest family in the country, my father feared I wouldn't be happy marrying someone else we weren't familiar with. I chose Jayden, the most capable of the three brothers—but just three days after the wedding, he passed away. In my grief, I gave up on remarriage. With Jesse and Joel's persuasion, I lived the rest of my life as a widow. Upon reaching eighty, I went to Massalia, where we once pledged our love. There, I encountered Jayden…who had supposedly died sixty years ago! He was living with my maid, who had gone missing decades ago, surrounded by children and grandchildren, living a happy and contented life. When I realized I had been deceived my whole life, I was so enraged that my vision suddenly darkened. I died of a brain hemorrhage on the spot. When I awoke, I had returned to the day the news of his death had arrived. Let's see how a man who should have died intended to continue living!

Jasper Eaton decides to ditch me at the altar just so he can meet up with Wendy Klein, his ex-girlfriend who abandoned him when he almost got crippled five years ago. All the guests are stunned, to say the least. I can only tug at Jasper's hem of his shirt while trying very hard to keep my expression intact. "Can you please stay with me now?" Mixed feelings cross his eyes, but he soon wrenches my hand off him, finger by finger. At the same time, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but I must go now. I need to ask Wendy why she was so heartless to me back then." Amid the crowd's shocked gasps and murmurs, Jasper leaves without even looking back. My dad, who has a bad heart, trembles violently out of fury. I can only stare in a shocked daze as he collapses to the floor shortly after. "Dad!" I break down on the spot. Still, I manage to send him to the hospital. There, I slump outside the emergency room. At that moment, my phone buzzes for a short while. Two new text messages have shown up on my screen. The first message comes from Wendy. "I told you that as long as I'm back, Jasper will never choose you. You lost again, Celeste." The second message comes from Jasper. "Give me 30 days. We'll break up for the time being. Once the period is over, I'll definitely love you and you only." My gaze is already hollow at that point. The smile curving on my lips is one of mockery and bitterness. This time, I will never lose ever again.

My husband, David Klaus, was a top surgeon with a strict rule: he didn't treat family. Conflict of interest, he said. Absolute professional ethics. He only broke that rule three times. The first was when severe period pain made me pass out, and he finally wrote me a sick note. The second was when my mother’s emergency surgery couldn't wait, and he allowed her into his hospital. The third was when I had a miscarriage risk, and he stepped in to save our baby. I should have felt grateful. But I didn't. Because he didn't break his rule for me. He broke it for my best friend, Wendy. All it took was a single phone call from her. "David, be good. Seeing her in pain hurts me too, and it won't ruin your reputation." And just like that, the unyielding doctor gave in for her. Afterward, he always looked at me with resentful eyes. "I keep breaking my boundaries for you." Waking up after surgery, I watched through the glass as they laughed together. She told him to stop being so rigid. He smiled and promised he would try. He never broke his rules for his wife. He broke them for her. And from then on, I didn't want his pity anymore. ---

I used to be notorious among our friends for being clingy. I could call my boyfriend all day long just to check up on him. To teach me a lesson, Bastian Shaw laid down a set of rules. Every time I called him, he'd take a female intern from his company shopping for a piece of furniture. Every time I checked up on him, he'd spend the night with her in our new house. Eventually, I stopped checking up on him altogether. Bastian proudly bragged to his childhood friends, "See? You can't spoil women. Leave them hanging long enough, and they'll learn to behave." On the day of our housewarming party, I stood at the front door, trying to register my fingerprint. The system kept repeating the same message. [Verification failed. Please contact the administrator.] One of Bastian's childhood friends was doubled over laughing beside me. "Hey, future Mrs. Shaw, Bastian made a bet with us. He wanted to see if you'd lose your mind in front of everyone when you found out he'd registered Molly Lane's fingerprint for the new house. "He said if you don't make a scene today, he'll marry you." I stared at the glaring red light on the fingerprint lock and felt nothing at all. "No, thanks. I wish them a long, happy marriage."